Chapter 15 Year 821 Month 8 Elleshar: Dread Master

In the heart of the grand sandstone halls, the urgency in Nazir's voice reverberated, a stark departure from the usual tones that echoed through the palace. Robed in intricate patterns, an enchanted scepter clutched in his hand, he awaited with an air of authority. A retinue of Janissaries and Essence wielders flanked him, an assembly attuned to the gravity of the situation.

"Elleshar, I am glad to see you," he began, his gaze locking onto mine. "We've detected magic activity in a remote desert enclave, far from the life-giving embrace of our oases. Initially, we suspected it to be the workings of shamans from a Drokkar tribe or similar, but circumstances warranted a closer inspection. Our infiltrators captured a necromancer in the act, confirming Viknesh's presence. I've summoned you as legate to do with the information as you please."

His gesture encompassed the circle of determined faces surrounding him. "We are poised for immediate assault to end this menace."

"Then we are coming too," I declared, meeting Nazir's unwavering gaze.

"I expected nothing less from an officer appointed by Alterran. Understand, Elleshar, this is a perilous endeavor. The return of you and your men cannot be guaranteed," Nazir warned.

"I am aware, Archmagus. We are well-equipped for such trials, and it is my duty to ensure the safe return of my soldiers. I'll inform Osei and rendezvous with you at the site," I affirmed.

Nazir nodded, and the procession began, his determined steps leading the way. Turning swiftly, I dispatched a message to Osei through the communication orb. "Osei, meet us by the gates. Nazir's forces and my team are bound for a necromancer hideout," I relayed, the weight of impending action palpable in the words.

"Very well brother. Do not worry, we will follow close behind." He replied.

The sandstone corridors echoed with the soft shuffle of robes and the occasional clinking of enchanted weaponry as we made our way to the city gates. Outside, the sun cast long shadows on the ground, a silent prelude to the imminent clash between the forces of light and the encroaching darkness.

As we departed the city, Nazir led the way to the hidden enclave, where the inquisitors demonstrated a mastery of stealth that bordered on the supernatural. Even my heightened Velmar perception wouldn't have detected them if not for my ability to sense vibrations through the ground. It remained uncertain whether others in our party were privy to their presence, except for Nazir, who I suspected harbored knowledge of our being trailed.

"Oh konak, remind me why we thought it would be a good idea to traverse the desert clad in bulky steel?" Davorn moaned.

"We did not, or at least I never believed it to be a good idea. However, time was of the essence, and you, my dear friend, are the only fool persisting in plate armor without the benefit of Essence insulation. Observe your surroundings. Keille wears maille, and both Roderick and Jerimiah don gambesons," I retorted.

"But you're clad in plate too," Davorn protested.

"Indeed, you simpleton. Mine is enchanted to maintain an ideal temperature at all times. Unless, of course, another Essence user decides to unleash a potent ice or fire spell upon me. The searing heat of the sun poses no threat," I explained.

"Well, why not enchant my armor too?"

"He makes a fair point, Captain. You could have just enchanted all our armor," Jeremiah chimed in.

"I'll consider it later, if time allows. For now, endure it. You're an Ozen, not a Human. A little heat and dehydration won't be the end of you," I asserted, steering our focus back to the impending mission.

The hidden lair lay a mere couple of hours away, a strategic choice balancing proximity to the city for resupply and sufficient distance to elude the watchful eyes of the Janissaries and sorcerers. Its unassuming appearance, bereft of oases, structures, or caverns, aimed to deflect attention. A concealed hatch on the sandy floor betrayed its location, though I only noticed because I could sense the hollow area beneath us. I was impressed with the Sardonians. No wonder the cult had thrived in obscurity; intruders, if any, likely met swift demise.

"Elleshar, is this the sole ingress and egress?" inquired Nazir. Kneeling, I sifted the sand through my fingers, attuning to the world's rotations, the subtle shifts in the terrain, and the vibrations beneath. A sensory exploration extending to the halls, creatures, and beyond.

"No, there are three exits. I can guide you to them, but I propose restraint. Below, hundreds of creatures lurk. I could petrify the escape routes, collapsing their tunnels. The sands would crush the cultists and their undead brethren, suffocating the living in the process."

Nazir nodded. " That's a prudent plan. Still, let's secure the exits. If any necromancers endure and attempt to transmute the stone or force their way out, my men will be prepared here. Elleshar, you lead my squad to cover one exit while informing the inquisitors of the final location."

His awareness of the inquisitors didn't surprise me; concealing one's presence from a sorcerer of his caliber was nearly impossible. The desert's silence enveloped us as we moved with a calculated purpose, each footstep creating a soft murmur against the backdrop of shifting sands.

"Brother Osei, regroup with me. We need your squad to cover one of the escape routes. My plan is to collapse the tunnels, but we may need you and the other inquisitors to lock down that route to catch any escapees," I transmitted through the orb. Transmutation followed my words as I turned the nearby door into an immovable stone slab, complemented by some transmuted sand to ensure its weight surpassed a ton. Similar transformations awaited the other two escape routes as we moved forward.

"Ready?" I inquired.

"Let us initiate the plan," declared Nazir.

"As ready as we'll ever be, Captain," affirmed Jeremiah.

As I manipulated the sands with precise gestures and footwork, Essence flowed, touching each grain. Pinpointing the weak spots in the foundation, I applied a subtle tug to make the base descend. I lacked the brute force to move all the sand, but mastery of Essence transcended raw power, requiring intelligence and finesse. Each point received its tug, and suddenly, the ground sank rapidly. In minutes, the cultists would be crushed, and any survivors would meet executioners upon surfacing. If this indeed served as the Necros cult's main base, their plans had unraveled.

"Now, we wait," Roderick nervously declared, crossbow at the ready.

"Relax," I reassured, "this plan is flawless."

"I hope so, Captain. It's only our lives on the line," he replied.

"Quit yapping and focus on the task," Keille added. Seconds, perhaps a minute or more, passed, and nothing happened. The obscured movements beneath the falling sand eluded my senses.

"Well, that was disappointing. I was expecting to smash some skulls," Davorn expressed with a frown. Suddenly, a hand from below grabbed his ankle. "Rimbee's pubes!" he yelled as the hand pulled him to the ground.

Roderick unleashed a bolt anointed with holy water, and the creature's grasp slackened, allowing Davorn to free himself and crush it with his war hammer.

"That's impossible! Their bodies shouldn't handle all that weight. They should be crushed!" I exclaimed.

"The necromancers likely erected a barrier, which means they're alive too. But that also means they're depleting their Essence. Stay resolute, for it's just as I predicted," Nazir explained.

A rift tore open in the sand, and a legion of zombies, skeletons, and other undead emerged. My Essence was nearly depleted, so I used the remainder to infuse my muscles with superior strength, speed, and toughness. Unsheathing my longsword, I prepared to unleash a torrent of Velmar might, but Nazir transmuted the ground they emerged from into quicksand. The horde slowly sank, unable to escape, destined to be trapped for eternity.

Yet, more continued to emerge from various openings in the ground. The situation was unnerving, especially as I grappled with the discomfort of being unable to sense my adversaries approaching. I was effectively blind, acutely aware that I could be seized at any moment, as Davorn had been. One attempted to grab Nazir, but its hand disintegrated upon contact. I focused intently on my footing, anticipating the movements of any undead that might seek to apprehend me, prepared to retaliate swiftly.

Suddenly, the air crackled with unleashed power as Nazir's scepter blazed with radiant energy. Firestorms erupted around him, engulfing the corpses in a mesmerizing dance of flames. The stench of burning flesh permeated the air while the archmagus channeled Essence through his scepter with masterful precision. It was truly remarkable how he wielded mastery over an art created by my people. Despite relying on a catalyst for his spells, the potency far surpassed anything I could conjure.

In the chaos, I found myself surrounded by a swarm of relentless zombies, their hollow eyes fixed on me with an otherworldly hunger. My longsword flashed in the dim light as I engaged them, each strike aimed at decaying flesh. Roderick, with swift precision, sent bolts at multiple undead in rapid sequence, each shot finding its mark. Jeremiah stood by his side, defending him with a sturdy halberd, striking down any corpse that ventured too close.

Davorn and Keille, a formidable duo, smashed through the horde of undead, their weapons crashing down with brute force. The clash of steel, the twang of crossbow strings, and the occasional roar of fire intertwined in a symphony of chaos and determination. The sands beneath our feet became a battleground, the struggle between life and the undead unfolding in a dance of survival.

Nazir, in the midst of this inferno, continued to cast spells of awe-inspiring magnitude. Flames erupted from his scepter, incinerating undead in their path. He wove intricate patterns with Essence, manipulating the very fabric of reality to serve his purpose. Awe-struck by his mastery of fire and Essence, we found renewed vigor in the face of overwhelming odds. The battle raged on, a testament to the resilience of the living against the encroaching darkness.

As the undead fell by the dozen, their twisted forms consumed by the inferno, the necromancers were forced to crawl out rapidly, likely growing fatigued. The barriers they had erected were strained from holding for so long, and the horde began to dwindle. Victory, it seemed, was within reach.

"This isn't right," Nazir remarked, beads of sweat forming from his Essence's expenditure and the flames' searing heat.

"I agree, it's too easy. Nothing is ever easy," added Roderick.

"Crushing skulls always seems right to me. It's just easy because we had the advantage," chimed Keille. All the while, more pillars of flame erupted, and our weapons continued to cleave through flesh and bone.

"But there are no greater Djinn or the like here as there were when Vescaro came to request my aid. Viknesh has shown he was capable of opening gateways and making pacts with the creatures. If this was their main sanctuary, there should be at least one, if not multiple," Nazir reasoned.

"Are you saying he's not here?" I asked.

"Maybe, but I'm also saying this may not even be their primary place of refuge. Another possibility is they are sending fodder to expend our energy and Essence before sending the Djinn to face us."

"That would be less than ideal," Roderick stated.

"Pretty sure we'd be screwed if that happened," said Jeremiah, as he drove his halberd into the skull of a walking corpse.

"Not necessarily," Nazir replied. "An archmagus is always prepared. I have several elixirs to rejuvenate my energy and catalysts to enhance my output. We'd come out alive, or at least some of us."

"I'm with him when things start going south. I'm actually trying to survive," Jeremiah exclaimed.

The thrashing of walking corpses lasted only a few more short moments before coming to an abrupt stop.

"Brace yourselves. We have not slain any necromancers in this battle," I said.

A few more uneventful minutes passed, with only the sound of the sands continuing to fall, disturbing the silence. I listened keenly with my enhanced senses, attempting to discern where they could be hiding, but I felt nothing. I could not hear them or pinpoint their possible locations.

"They're gone," Nazir declared, recognizing my search for the wielders of forbidden arts.

"Impossible! We were here the whole time; we would have sensed something," I exclaimed.

"As a Velmar, you should know better. Can Lord Alterran not create teleportation devices and conceal them with a 10th circle spell? Are the Oheriens teleporters not beyond our comprehension and thus cannot be sensed by normal magi such as us?"

I grew frustrated, knowing his words to be true. "But if Viknesh could use spells of the 10th circle, he would be more powerful as an Essence user than yourself."

He smiled. "While unlikely, it is possible. Archmagus Z'albor is stronger than I, and so is the Albeani Dardar. Not every powerful Essence user will be renowned. Some prefer to remain in the shadows, avoiding attention."

"But if he were so powerful, why retreat now? Why not slaughter us?"

Nazir let out a hearty laugh. "Even if he were more powerful, I believe even Z'albor himself would be hard-pressed to kill us all when we hold the element of surprise. He could have believed the risk would not be worth it. The loss of some lesser undead was a minor setback that he can recover from in a few days, if he were that powerful."

"So where do you think he and the other necromancers went?" Jeremiah asked.

"There's no way to tell, unless we investigate the inside to look for clues. Elleshar, stabilize the sands and follow behind me as we descend," Nazir said.

I drank an elixir of rejuvenation and focused, hardening the sand into sturdy stairs after a few seconds. I opened a tunnel that led to a small portion of their enclave so we could find clues. Nazir led the way, producing a flame to light the way through the dark cavern. I could see regardless, but the humans I led, and Nazir themselves could not see well in the dark. Still, the archmagus led the way, unafraid of what possible unknown dangers may be lurking beyond.

"I sense danger ahead," Roderick stated as he used his own Essence to reach out and sense the Negative Essence that lie beyond.

"I sense it too, and it's powerful." Nazir replied.

"Weapons at the ready, and brace yourselves for a battle." I said.

"Oh I've been itching for a real fight!" Keille said.

"Oh no lass, that's just the sand that got in your pants! You should wash up when we get back." Davorn said.

"Can you guys shut up and take things seriously for just a moment? There may be enemies lurking about, and we will not hear them with your bickering." My tone held annoyance. "The stench of death fills these halls, so we should expect company soon."

"You're no fun, elf. We're just trying to make light of the situation. We've been through worse together, and it will take more than a few necromancers and... by the hair in Korran's arse! What happened here!" Davorn shouted. His eyes locked on a rotting man's torso, impaled by bone spears in multiple directions, forming a pentagram. It was of human origin, and all of his limbs were removed, including his head. It seemed they were torn off by a pulling force, physically wrenched from the body, and his flesh bore wounds lacerated by a barbed whip of some sort. Maggots crawled in and out of the gruesome openings. It was clear this man had been dead for a few days, tortured before meeting his gruesome end. Jeremiah and Roderick both made their symbols of prayer, requesting protection from their God or for the forgiveness of this poor man's sins. The pentagram, usually used as a ritualistic formation to build a bridge between this dimension and that of the Oherien faction who despises creatures of this dimension, showed signs of fading Essence. It either had not been used recently or was only employed for thralls.

"Do you see anything, Elleshar?" Nazir inquired.

"Nothing worth mentioning. Everything I see here is expected from the cultists. I haven't spotted any hidden glyphs or the like," I replied. "I suggest we keep pressing forward. Lingering here delays our investigation."

"Yes, I agree. The sooner we finish this investigation, the sooner we can leave this Godforsaken place," Roderick quivered. Nazir nodded and initiated a forward march.

"I think I should lead the way, Archmagus," I said.

Nazir grinned. "With all due respect, Elleshar, anything that would pose a danger to me will kill you far quicker. Your armor does not compare with my protective spells, and your ability to see in the dark is only an edge in seeing your impending doom before anyone else could. You should stay behind me and let me know if you feel any movement in the sand," Nazir explained. I couldn't argue, as he was correct. We continued onward, led by the Archmagus.

The path ahead seemed to stretch into an abyss of shadows, the air thick with a foreboding tension that tightened with every step. The only guide through this stygian maze was the flickering flame in Nazir's hand, casting eerie shadows dancing along the cavern walls.

As we ventured deeper, the walls seemed to close in, and the air grew colder, the oppressive weight of the negative essence pressing against our senses. The anticipation hung heavy, and even the banter that usually echoed in these tunnels dwindled into a tense silence, our steps measured and cautious. Each footfall reverberated, a stark reminder of our intrusion into the lair of death.

The cavern whispered of unseen threats and the brave facade of my comrades belied the truth – we were stepping into the unknown, a realm tainted by dark forces. The air crackled with otherworldly energy, and our weapons gleamed in the faint light, poised for a confrontation with the malevolence lurking in the shadows.

The deeper we went, the more intense the foul stench of decay became. Bloodstained certain areas of the sand, suggesting the place may have been drenched before the remodeling I gave it. Insects crawled about, and half-buried corpses were scattered everywhere. Not just men but women and even children. The ability to see in the dark certainly did not feel like a gift at this moment. I witnessed the cadaver of a young girl, no older than three years, perhaps. It was relatively fresh, less than 48 hours since she was butchered. Her eyeballs were sucked out of her skull, and her once graceful blond hair was soiled with blood. Her nose was peeled off, and each of her fingers was removed in a way that looked like they were bitten off. Her chest was opened, her organs removed and replaced with a nest of rats, now crushed under the weight of the sands. I couldn't be sure of her cause of death, but her current state was traumatizing. Despite my ordinarily strong demeanor, I could not help but vomit.

"What is it?" Jeremiah questioned. He couldn't see the body because it was too dim. I wiped the vomit from my mouth and shed a single tear from my eye, which I'm sure he also did not see.

"It's nothing, let's just move on." I couldn't bring myself to tell him, nor was it necessary. He hid it well, but he was already afraid of this place, and lowering his morale would not help anyone, especially if we had a fight ahead of us.

"It's alright, Captain. The stench here is strong," Jeremiah replied.

"Elleshar, I think you should see this," Nazir said, standing before some sandstone monument. It radiated with overwhelming Negative Essence. I noticed Roderick, Davorn, and Keille staring at it as well, with the humans quivering, panting, and sweating in fear. My vision began to tunnel, and outside noise was slowly being blocked out. I heard the mumbles of Nazir and Jeremiah but was unable to decipher what they were saying. Their mutters were being replaced by the whispers of the monument. The whispers became louder and louder. I tried to scream but couldn't hear my own voice. All I heard was a distorted voice of majestic might.

"Rejoice! This world, in death, is framed. The Dreadmaster's grasp, a promise sealed, A future forged, in darkness revealed."

Darkness fell, and my senses faded. I was lost in the void, in the paradoxical clamorous silence. There was no more to see or hear. In the abyss, my dreams disappeared.